To Run, To Hunt, To Kill
by dossfenrir
Summary: He and his brother knew not what their family's legacy would lead them to...but Hircine would ensure their downfall, one way or another...


To run…to hunt…to kill…

These words echo throw my head…a constant agony in my psyche…a reminder of my sins…

I was a normal man once. A simple Nord, proudest hunter of Whiterun in the 3rd era…but no longer. Hircine has…forsaken me…he turned his back on me. He said it was a gift, but it was no more than a damned curse! I…no, I must get a hold of myself. I must concentrate. My name is Heralt Ice-Arrow, of the Ice-Arrow clan, brother to Ivan. We were proud hunters, the last of our clan for ten years. My brother had taught me what I needed to know for hunting, and taught me what was most sacred to our family: our blood pact with Hircine.

Hircine, God of the hunt, is our family's sacred patron. He guided us for generations, for two eras even! But…no longer. For our lord, we must give a kill equal to what we gain for ourselves: a deer for a deer, and elk for an elk, a bear for a bear. We always followed through, and we always were blessed with great hunts! But no…longer. For our lord, we must give a drop of our own blood with every carcass. We always followed through, and we were always blessed with truest aim. But…no longer…

No longer…

Hircine has forsaken me...

My brother and I were hunting as usual, when he had killed a white stag, a sacred kill for Hircine indeed! But…there was no other of equal to it, for it was one of a kind! My brother told me that it must be sacrificed to Hircine and not eaten, for there was no equal. He said we would be blessed indeed! We were giddy and delightful, knowing only greatness would come of it tonight.

But we were wrong…DEAD WRONG…

That night, as I began to fall asleep, my brother committed sacrilege of the grandest order: he took a part of the majestic beast's antler, and carved a dagger from it. Proud was he…so very proud. But pride is toxic, and it was the very toxin that would consume him in the name of Hircine's wrath. I awoke, in a sense, the next day at the sun's height. Blood drenched the street where I crouched, covering my face and hands as they painfully changed into my own again. My head ached in agony, the smells…oh the smells drenched my nose as I smelled the gore about me. It was nauseating, but the sight as my vision cleared was worse. Before me was my brother in different pieces: his legs ripped from his torso, his innards strewn about the street, his chest ripped open bellow me, his arms torn and tossed aside, and his face…by the nine, his face was unrecognizable! The people screamed and sobbed at the horror that was I, and I began to understand as I saw the dagger he had crafted embedded in his heart.

I barely remember what came next…only that I ran hard, ran long, and ran fast. Years of hunting in the tundra had made me more agile than any guard, and soon I found myself within an abandoned tower. I coward there like the miserable beast that I had become. I tried to remember…I had to. What had happened that night and morning? Why did I kill Ivan?

To run…to hunt…to kill…

So began the whispers in my head. I started to hear those words again and again and again, over and over since. I looked about the dark tower as the sun began to set, looking for the speaker, but saw none. Then I heard his words as Secunda rose…the words of our "protector".

"You forsake my claim; you dare to defile it for your own gain. Your brother paid with his life, dear mortal, but you will pay with your soul…"

I knew it to be him, to be Hircine. He had done this; he had given me what my family claimed as the ultimate gift by him: Lycanthropy. But this wasn't a gift! This wasn't a blessing! No…it was a curse! The next three nights I gained no sleep, changing form against my will as the moons rose, and under the dark night sky I killed any who crossed my path. Anyone or anything, whether they are beast, mer, or…human. That traveling messenger, those fellow hunters, and even…that poor shepherd boy herding his family's cows. None stood a chance, and none stood ever again after I was there with them. Worst yet, every night as soon as I changed back and retreated to my tower, I would see them. They were the beasts that hunted with Hircine; they were his pets, his hounds, and his damned. They watched me, waiting, but never got a chance. It wouldn't be long when they dwelled at the base, waiting for me to come out so that they could have their own turn to hunt.

And so here I am, on the fourth night within the tower. I am on the roof, having barricaded the doors and windows. I watch as the sun sets over the mountains, waiting. This time, I made sure that Hircine would not get another victim through me. No more would I kill, but also no more would I live. I planned to starve myself, to thirst myself, and to deprive myself of care until time, nature, and disease would take me. Again…I was wrong, for as the sun finally disappeared, the worst omen rose: the blood moon.

To run, to hunt, to kill!

It was louder now, as it spoke not in a whisper any longer. The red sphere rose into the sky, tainting the land and sky in blood red color, and THEY came. I heard it at first, the howling. The schilling echoes of their cries as I watched them scurry and run from the furthest reaches of the land. They came in droves, charging from everywhere the eye could see in the blood light. This was it; this was what he wanted; to serve me to his hounds. I trembled and shook in greatest fear, for I saw him there with his pack: Hircine stood proudly as he "eyed" me with his deer skull of a head.

To run, to hunt, to KILL!

Louder now, booming in my head as I heard him chant. With him began their chants as well.

TO RUN, TO HUNT, TO KILL!

TO RUN, TO HUNT, TO KILL!

TO RUN, TO HUNT, TO KILL!

Then I felt the agony once more as my body began to morph and warp, changing into one of them. NO! No longer would I be his damned toy! No more would I be subjected to his torment! Brother…please forgive me as you rest in Sovngarde!

…and so the once proud hunter flung himself from the tower he imprisoned himself within. My once proud follower, whom I had blessed, was no more as his body cracked against the ground bellow. Pity…he could have been my best hound…but even in death he won't escape. No, for as my hounds feast upon his carcass, his soul wanders this land of Tamriel. He is somewhere, and I will haunt him and his brother down. Let them be reunited…for now. Soon, they will be mine yet again…


End file.
